the incense has burned down and out
and my mouth tastes faintly of bile
but on my lips I can still taste the laughter
the smiles and exchanges of casual love
the polaroid photo lies on my cluttered desk
as well as the penny and unused drink tickets
and while today was sluggish and cold
I must let it be simply what it was, nothing less
I am what made today mine
bare flesh,
bold faced,
accepting
resting and recovering and dissolving
back into my scattered routines and dreams
whatever it is I need to keep on living for another day
for the weeks and months never slow down
and I must let them take me
of nothing in particular
By verbacordis
A poetry/short story collection of mine without any planned themes or direction. More